The Scars Only You Can Heal
by Shinigamislingby
Summary: After being apart for weeks, Feliciano decides to take matters into his own hands. Writing a letter of apology and love to the only person he has ever cared about in his life- the desperate, broken, wonderful Ludwig Bielschmidt


Dear Ludwig,

This is the only place I can speak to you now. The words brought on by impulsive speech are far too crude for the emotions that I feel. Please understand that.

It's 3am here, you probably wouldn't know that. Knowing your obsessive sleep schedule, I know that you definitely do not know what time it is now. You also wouldn't realise that I am awake, may against the wall that separates us, trying to not cry. You have been out of it for hours; luckily, you have not heard my sobs.

My life feels so distant from yours now. Although we are only a room apart, physically, it feels like our minds are the sun and the moon. They draw similarity but are parallel. The hallway- along with the space between us- is the only thing that speaks volumes, for we haven't spoken in days. I suppose it is better than the other option.

I locked myself away so that you wouldn't see my pain; my love, and that was easier than letting you in. You walked past my room like I never existed though. That broke my heart.

Are you still taking your medication?

The day you did enter, however, ruined me. Your pain filled eyes and contorted face- you had just caught me trying to hurt myself didn't you? No matter how apathetic you looked as you helped me with bandages, your beautiful blue eyes were hurting. You Bielschmidts have a reputation of acting emotionless and miserable but I know better. You hurt and, as a result, I wanted to die more. I would kill to see you happy. I would do anything to hear that low rumble of a laugh. You simply need to let your emotions show more.

Says the one writing a letter, eh?

Now, I can picture you reading this. Looking at the paper with a vague smile and a string of tears in your beautiful azure eyes. You are hunched over your desk, trying to read this with your dim lamp. Please, go turn on your actual light. As always, your brain is coming up with the worst possible conclusion to my ramblings- I am afraid that the worst answer might be the correct one.

We seemed to be drifting apart but my heart always felt different. Those weeks ago, we were searching through our demo tapes- finding the best songs to send off to Francis. This was my only passion, aside from you. We say together, side by side, but worlds apart. Only a word or so exchanged between us every now and then. Nods of confirmation were the only things I managed to get out of you for the most part. This hurt me infinitely as you were the only one to calm my raging mind.

Something told me that you were upset. This was probably the weight of the world in your eyes. The sadness of a thousand lifetimes hidden in one glance. I knew that it was because of your past but you don't talk about it anymore. I asked anyway and this led to an argument.

As most things do these days.

The charade continued over a few days, I simply wanted to hide in my room so that I didn't hurt you anymore. Am I a coward for thinking that? At least our arguments died down. This was the only upside; the opposite, horrible outcome of this, was that we didn't speak anymore.

You left for coffee with friends, left me alone to dwell on my thoughts and I formed a decision. Ludwig, this is the day that I leave you. I never saw myself strong enough to do this but I have to take control of something in my pitiful existence.

I had vowed to leave my fate alone, you know my superstitions, but the thought of losing you brought me to this. You never saw how much I love you, you probably don't really care for love anyway.

My love always. Feliciano

He lazily ended the letter, scribbling his name at the bottom. He doesn't deserve to be bothered by my ramblings and emotions. He is a much better man. Feliciano looked up at his ceiling and then closed his eyes, tears now flowing over. He spoke, as if to some hidden person or to himself- that he wasn't sure of. "Why are you such an idiot?" He smacked his head against the headboard and then refocused to the paper infront of him.

Dear Ludwig,

Unspoken words, whispered declarations of love. That is all my life has become and, as it stands, that is all that it shall be. You were my hope but that was taken away when you became distant. Your eyes were jaded, lifeless, and with every care in the world multiplied. I couldn't face staring into those eyes that I had once treasured. I still do, but only the memory of them. They looked as though you had no happiness to share and I hated that.

Even when I did leave my room, to go to the toilet or find myself a drink, you weren't there. Your lies, lay out in note form, were the only part of you left in the room. Coffee with friends, part time work, shopping. They all lay on the coffee table. I would see them and cry. I didn't even need to read them, I didn't care what they said. You were gone and that is all I needed to hear. To be honest, the real you had left upon our first argument. I sat on the sofa, one og the first times out of my room in weeks, and just thought.

Nothing more, nothing less. I couldn't cry and I didn't want to anymore. I was sick of crying, of seeing all the other people in my life be so strong. I just stayed into whitewash walls, their horrible dullness soothed my mind almost. Colour wouldn't be appropriate after all.

You were the first one on my mind. I worried so much for you- after your diagnosis, I was afraid that you wouldn't remember me. That one day, you would walk past me as if we were nothing but strangers. An aching consumed me at the thought of this. Maybe if I let my selfish notions of love pass, we could remain friends forever. This angered me more than ever, and you know how slow I am to anger. I couldn't possibly let my love slip into the abyss because I am afraid.

All I hope I have managed to do is make you laugh. That beautiful laugh and smile that was full to the brim with joy. Maybe that is wishful thinking but I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Nothing really matters any more.

My love always. Feliciano

Writing that feels so alien to him now. The person associated to that name was not him anymore- the laughing, light-hearted Feliciano that everyone had come to love was dead. Behind the façade of painted smiles and perfectly crafted laughter lay a broken man. Someone who wants no more with this hell of a world. And maybe the shell of his former self will wind up dead at the end of this excruciating day.

He put his shaking hand to the paper and began to write, once again.

Dear Ludwig,

This will probably be my last letter. This will be my last goodbye- to you: definitely. To the world: possibly. To my feelings: never. I have one last thing to say, here goes.

Your logical mind and perfectly groomed hair, the way you make me laugh without even speaking. Your eyes, those blue masses like no others. They hold the universe and, although you do not see it, they are beautiful. You wear no colour and yet you are the colours that I wear. Your laugh is flawless; a beautiful, deep sound that resonates with my core. You hate it and yet I think it is the most beautiful sound that I have ever heard.

You make me feel so safe with your words of encouragement and comforting arms. I couldn't find another place that I would rather be. If it ever came to it, I would gladly die to see you happy. I would burn the world in order to see you calm again.

This is an unspoken part of my mind and, well, it will still stay unspoken. I'm leaving you with these words because you simply have a right to know. You probably don't even see me like that. You probably won't even know who I am in a few months.

Feliciano.

He looked away from the paper and dropped the pen. The countless amounts of drafts were now behind him; crumpled up and just barely reaching the bin. Life has no meaning now that those letters had been written, in his mind at least. Feliciano's mind still swirled with thoughts and words unwritten. About the day that they met, the day that they had spent taking about everything and nothing. Those words... Feliciano, I can't leave you. You are the only person who sees past my front and I thank you for that. And the breathless kisses, stolen at the back of the college dorms.

As the words lay written on paper, he knew what had to be done. It was his end here. Ending doesn't mean death but he alluded to that, in a petty moment of thoughtlessness. The last piece of paper called out to him, it was ready for those last words.

Dear Ludwig,

Arrivederci amore mio

Feliciano, yours always.


End file.
